


Tradition

by orphan_account



Category: Zombieland (2009)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Bad Writing, Dress Up, Fantasizing, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Columbus Assumes and is Confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradition

Columbus is sure he misheard him.  
”Uh....what?"  
Tallahassee grins wide, smug and nonchalant, "Put it on. It's a tradition."  
Columbus glances down at the fluffy material in his hands and scowls. "No way! I won't be caught dead in this."

It's spring, or at least it feels like it, grass a dark healthy green and flowers blooming everywhere. Maybe the rotting corpses are helping the vegetation, who knows. They are somewhere in San Diego, vast ocean on one side and the paved roads and tourist shops on the other.  
Wichita and Little Rock are somewhere. They disappeared soon after they cleared the quaint little shopping district and Columbus was glad, in a weird grateful way. The kiss and the revelation of Wichita's name had felt so important at the time, but in the last couple of weeks, all he had been getting was mixed signals. It was exhausting and annoying, and as much as he liked her, he actually felt like he needed a break from trying to wrap his head around it.  
So, that left him with Tallahassee.  
The man had been poking around for, of course, twinkies, when he had discovered a costume shop.  
Which had led to this situation.

Columbus looks back up at Tallahassee, "I'm not doing it." He tries to be more firm and demanding, to imitate the confidence in Tallahassee’s speech, but it comes out whining and pleading.  
Tallahassee laughs at him, "Listen here, boy. You put that on or I will fuckin' go 50% on your ass."   
Columbus winces and pouts, almost wishing that a zombie would come shambling down the street so that Tallahassee would leave him alone.  
But the street is empty and Tallahassee grunts with impatience.  
"What are you waitin' for, prissy?"  
Columbus sighs weighing his options. He's not afraid of Tallahassee, not anymore really. He knows that in a weird almost fatherly way, the half crazed man is the closest thing he'll have to a best friend. And best friends....prank each other? Embarrass each other?  
He might as well obey and keep the peace because that's important in Zombieland, to stick together and be at peace. No need to be fighting your comrades and brain eating corpses at the same time.  
"Okay. I'll put it on, but I'm doing this for the good of the group."  
Tallahassee brays and waves a machete wielding hand, "Hurry the fuck up."  
He moves to the back of the Hummer out of Tallahassee’s eyesight because man or not, he was not going to dress in front of him.  
Tallahassee had somehow forced him to put on a bunny suit. It is large and fluffy, and Columbus is already regretting caving to the man’s demands. At least it isn't anything… more sultry like the other bunny costume that he had seen in the shop.  
This one looks like the type one wore to a children's party and it came on easily, the zippers easy to find and close. It has a tail, a thick knot of cotton, and a freakin’ multicolored bow tie at the neck. There is a hood that came up that was the bunny’s face, so he could peek out from under it.  
He probably looks as ridiculous as he feels, but that is the point, isn't it? Ugh, Tallahassee is such a butthead.  
“What’s takin’ you so long, kid?”  
Columbus scowls, “I really don’t want to do this! Why are you making me do this!”  
Tallahassee laughed and Columbus hears his thick army boots crunching gravel as he walks around the Hummer.  
Columbus folds his arms, pouting, “Why do you enjoy making me feel stupid?” He whines as Tallahassee came into view.   
The young man watches as the older man’s face twists into some weird amusement, and he starts laughing, almost bowing over as he chortles out as if laughing could end the apocalypse.  
Columbus tries to stay stoic and offended, but Tallahassee looks so stupid laughing like that and laughter is not something he’s had often, so his mouth twitches and after a moment, he chuckles defeatedly.  
“You look so stupid!” Tallahassee manages to say, in between cracking up and gasping for air, “You should-” another peal of laughter interrupted his sentence and he has to bump his chest to start breathing again, “wear that all the time! When we are fuckin' shit up! It’ll be fuckin’ hilarious!”  
Columbus’ chuckle has morphed into laughter, and though he doesn’t like being the butt of the joke, seeing Tallahassee so unadulteratedly happy for something so childish made him feel some sort of contentment.   
After a couple of moments, Tallahassee gives up standing and drops onto his bottom, sinking down against the Hummer. Columbus, feeling some sort of solidarity, sits down next to him.  
The bunny suit is warm, it blocks a lot of the crisp sea winds and provide a soft shade from the sharp rays of sunlight...It wasn’t all bad, he reasons. This could almost be like bonding time.  
All in all, he felt pretty good, and decides he made the right decision in not fighting the older man.  
The silence is cut short when Tallahassee speaks.  
"Ya, you look pretty cute in that. You're like a freakin' girl sometimes."   
Columbus feels his body flush with pleasure and self consciousness, and he tries to take the comment as an insult, which it probably is, but no one has ever called him cute before and well... Tallahassee doesn't lie. He bites down on his first exclamation, the unbelief of being called cute by another man, and tries to be witty about it.   
"Good nutrition...." He mutters, trying to hide his blushing by ducking his head, passing off his slightly hurried breathing by joking, "...plenty of beauty rest. That's my secret"  
Tallahassee grunts, "You look stupid, but like, cute. What the hell is up with that? Are you a woman? I've never checked if you had a dick."  
Columbus sputters, eyes wide and his earlier pleased state dissipating like a flame in the wind. "WHA-You don't need to check! Why would you even say that?"  
Tallahassee shrugs, "When I was your age, I was always touching my cock. Never seen you do it."  
Columbus's face burns and he groans into his hands, "Oh god, why are you....oh god. No! I don't touch myself! I'm not like you!"  
"Well, that's fuckin' stupid." Tallahassee gruffs,"If you don't relieve that tension, you're going to end up walking around with a weird boner and that can kill ya. So jack off often."  
Columbus is trying to sink into the bunny suit, now probably permanently red. Why were they talking about this? How did they go from the nice moment of laughing and having fun to… jackin' off?  
"No way!” Columbus exclaims, even more embarrassed, “Little Rock is with us! What if she walks in? That would be... No...." Just thinking of that possible situation churns his stomach with mortified horror. "I don't even know how-"  
"You don't know how!?" Tallahassee interrupts, barking loud enough that Columbus jolts in shock, "-the fuck. What the hell have you been doing all these years? Do you need me to fuckin' show you how?"  
Columbus balks at the question and his crimson color turns darker.  
For some reason, in his confused, embarrassed state the first thing that comes to his mind is Tallahassee's hands drifting over him to show him the proper way to touch himself, large callused hands almost rough on his-  
He yelps, standing up as if he sat on a needle and he trips over himself in his attempt to get away.  
"No!!" He squeaks out, and it must be funny, squeaking in this particular outfit but instead of laughing, Tallahassee seems genuinely concerned."I know how! I just-" He takes a breath, not wanting to meet the intensity in the older man's eyes. "I just don't, okay. It's..."  
He is no stranger to the concept and would call himself an expert in that field before the end of the fucking world, but now it's just...too weird. “It's kinda low priority, don't you think? It should be the least of my problems.” Columbus mutters, shifting nervously on his feet.   
Tallahassee grunts, “Hell, kid, it's a fuckin’ important part of living. As long as you feel something, you should, spit-fuck.”  
It is almost a reprimand. Tallahassee is scolding him for not touching himself. It was the opposite of what his parents told him when he was younger, which was, ‘Stop touching yourself, you’ll break it.’  
“I don’t want to… Especially if you know what I’m doing…” Columbus whimpers out.  
“What are you fuckin’ scared of?” Tallahassee barks, “What? Do you want me to watch? I can do that.”  
Columbus’ jaw drops, and his mouth is suddenly so dry. What? What!? Watch? Columbus’ face burns, but a tingling in his stomach starts to alert him that maybe he does need to relieve himself because he can not possibly be getting hard from just thinking about something like this. With a man! With Tallahassee! He can’t- He doesn’t want that? Does he?  
He likes girls! He likes Wichita for god’s sakes! Why is thinking of how Tallahassee's eyes would smolder as he watched how clumsily he pleasured himself, fingers cold and awkward. And as in all things concerning them, after a moment of stupid fumbling, Tallahassee would reach out and slap his hand away to do the job properly.  
Columbus blanches, his thoughts haywire, and his body hot.  
What. The. Hell.  
He looks up guiltily at Tallahassee and then at the hands draped over his thighs, fingers rough and thick, and the thought of how nice those would feel on him surges through his mind.   
Suddenly, Tallahassee is not a father figure anymore. More... Closer to home… more….  
Columbus blinks and swallows hard, finally gathering enough saliva to answer.   
“You…You wanna watch?”  
Tallahassee stands up, straightening to his full height, powerful and intimidating, but his eyes are intensely focused on Columbus who is sinking further into his bunny suit.  
“Gotta be safe, right? There's a bathroom in there. Do your business and I’ll keep watch.”  
Columbus feels like he’s going to faint, but the rush of heat and expectation turn cold when he properly hears those words. ‘I’ll keep watch’ and not the ‘I'll watch”.  
Those were totally different statements, and there was a world of difference in them. Columbus feels his face grow hot, hotter than what it already is, and the flushing heat in his veins turns sour, and surprisingly, it's regret and disappointment that he feels and not reasonable relief.  
“I-I don’t need it….now.” He stutters out, hastily dropping his eyes to the dirt caught on the black boots, “I can’t now-”  
He is not going to try anything now, even if he does need it, because he knows that his mind will only drift back to thinking about Tallahassee, and his bulk hovering over him large fingers pressing up against him, moving with experience.  
“Ah, stop being a fuckin’ bitch about it. Go in, do your business, and get out. I’ll make sure that you don’t get chomped on.”  
Columbus squirms and shakes his head, “I’ll take a rain check. Thanks anyways…”  
Tallahassee grunts again, rougher this time, and it's quiet again. Columbus wants to leave and stay and disappear into the cement slab of the street, all at once. He is trying to dissect why all of the sudden Tallahassee is… desirable and why was he so weird? He can’t even get friendship right. Maybe when Wichita returns, he’ll get rid of this...  
“Sit down, Spit-fuck. Why are you standing there like an idiot for?”  
His voice is rough, but with an undertone of a specific gentleness that he could only associate with Tallahassee. Columbus frowns slightly and then moves to sit beside him, even if he feels guilty and awkward.  
Tallahassee crosses his arm and spreads his legs, looking comfortable in the sun. Columbus is much more stiff beside him, in more than one way.   
“Nice, right? You could almost forget that the world is a fucked up mess."  
Columbus glances at him, wondering at his tone before nodding. Even though he feels like a boy entering his teens, horny at the drop of a hat, this is nice. If only he can get his mind off of Tallahassee's hands.  
"I guess."  
Tallahassee snorts like a disgruntled horse, turning his head to give Columbus a sneer.   
"You don't sound like you care."  
Columbus shakes his head in response, but he can understand why Tallahassee would think that. He's not very thrilled with himself right now and it's bleeding into his mood. "I do..." He frowns, defensive, suddenly, " Why do you care?"  
"I ain't gonna be fuckin' sentimental, but I gotta spend time with people who matter. Like you, spit-fuck."  
It is such a contrary statement that Columbus doesn't know how to feel about it until the words sink in.  
People who matter…  
He has heard words like that before, praise and encouragement, has heard I love you from his parents and you're great from friends, but for some reason this off handed declaration from Tallahassee warms his skin with both embarrassment and something akin to joy. It's not like his family praising him or a girl showing him affection, this is different. It's Tallahassee and Tallahassee is gruff and rude, but always says what’s on his mind. Columbus admires him, wishes he could be more like that, strong and bold.  
And maybe, admiration is turning to something else, deeper and heavier.   
Something to do with the thrill of his recent fantasy, and how safe and comfortable he feels around the older man.  
He matters, he matters to a man who seems to not care about anything, but violent pleasure and tasteful spongy desserts.  
“You matter to me too, Tallahassee.”  
The man’s response is groaned out and his hand shoots out to slap him in the stomach, “I just said I don’t want to get fuckin’ sentimental.”  
Columbus laughs, his earlier embarrassment disappearing and replaced with warm comfort of familiarity, before grunting in pain from the not so gentle jab in the stomach.  
“We should dress you up more often. I saw a different bunny costume suit in there you might like.”  
Columbus coughs hard, surprised before glaring as hard as he can at Tallahassee.   
“God, you are so mean. I’m gonna get you back for kidding like this.”  
Tallahassee isn’t laughing, isn’t grinning like the sadistic bastard that he is. His face is serious as death,“Who says I'm kidding, spit-fuck?”  
Columbus leans back a little, not enjoying the joke. He won’t misinterpret again. “I know you are. Stop it.”  
The corner of Tallahassee’s mouth lifts, but it's not humor on his face. It's challenging and causes a shiver down his spine.  
“I think you’ll look pretty good in it. Real nice to look at, even with your cock hanging out.”  
Tallahassee's face is sheer confidence and masculinity, his eyes scan Columbus’ face with dark meaning, smouldering like they did in his recent fantasy.  
“Wha...What?”  
He’s sweating under the bunny suit, hands slick and body fever hot. He thinks this might be a dream. A very strange dream, that when he would wake up, he would have to try very hard to hide from Tallahassee.   
But, no…He can feel the sunlight on his face, and the ocean crisp air that does nothing to cool off his heated skin. Tallahassee looks like he’s leaning forward and a surge of adrenaline spikes through his blood, his eyes closing on instinct, waiting, anticipating and hoping for contact. It doesn’t matter that he’s in a bunny suit, that it's the end of the world, that brain eating ghouls are roaming around or that Tallahassee is the definition of a man’s man, and he never thought that he would want to kiss him so much as he does right now. None of that matters, only the stutter of his heart, the desire coursing through his veins and how loud his breathing is becoming from the want of human, no, not human contact, only hoping for contact from Tallahassee.  
A shrill whistle interrupts, making Columbus jump like, yes, a rabbit. His whole body prickles like he’s cold, even if he is slick with sweat. He won’t glance at Tallahassee, would rather die than to look at him right now. Instead, he focuses on the interruption and sees Wichita and Little Rock down the street, far enough away that he is sure and relieved that they didn’t see them… doing whatever they were doing, but close enough that Columbus can avoid looking at Tallahassee. It’s a pretty lost cause. They travel together, live together. He can’t avoid him and knows that this is going to change something. What, he doesn't know and he can’t predict if that change will be good or bad, and in Zombieland, the unknown can kill you.  
He stands up, hunching his shoulders, and wishing that he could somehow go back in time, before he apparently had the hots for a much older man, to a time when he was less gay than right now.  
He hears Tallahassee move from behind and Columbus’ muscles stiffen in anticipation for a hit, or a punch or something else violent. There is nothing and when Columbus dares turn around to face dark piercing eyes, Tallahassee isn’t there.  
It's not a relief, it's panic that fills him because there is less than a dozen people on earth and he has somehow alienated himself from the one that suddenly he cares most about.  
He feels like crying, but he won’t so he focuses on the coming figures of the girls and swallows hard around the knot in his throat.  
He is only in solitude for a couple of moments before something hits him in the back of the head and some sort of cloth winds around him. He ducks and pulls it off quickly, feeling silk and leather. He turns around and Tallahassee is there, machete in hand, eyes showing the same sort of determination that they did when he was searching for his favorite hostess snack or looking to brew trouble. He motions with his eyes to the clothing in Columbus’ hand and he follows the gaze to look at what he’s holding.  
It's white and pink, leather made with silk straps.  
It's the other bunny suit.  
Columbus almost drops it, but he curls his finger in at the last second, before glancing up at the eyes watching him.  
Tallahassee doesn’t look any different and this might be some sort of sick joke, but even so, Columbus feels his heart beating hard again.  
“Wha-What…?" He asks, because he has to, because he doesn't want to misunderstand.  
Tallahassee moves to reach him, hand snatching the fabric from his limp hands.  
“Just in case-” He growls, but there is something sinuous in his voice, thrumming into his pulse, “-we get another moment alone. I finish what I start, spit-fuck.” It’s a dark promise, and it takes his breath away. “We can even make it a tradition.”  
And then he turns on his heel and throws the clothing into the front seat of the Hummer.  
Columbus blinks once, as he truly comprehends the words that Tallahassee said.  
Finish what he starts…?  
Columbus lips quirk into a smile, and he glances to meet Tallahassee’s eyes. The man is playing with his blade, but his mouth is curved with a shit-eating grin.   
The girls walk up, Little rock chewing on something they found and Wichita, smiling coy and suggestive.  
But all Columbus can focus on is the fact that Tallahassee is single minded when he wants something.  
What he wants right now is something that Columbus would not mind giving.   
And as they load up, after laughing at what Columbus is still wearing, Columbus can’t help the thrill of eager anticipation in his blood for the moment when they're once again alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to be awkward.


End file.
